Chapter Seven
‘Inside or out?’ he pressed when her muteness persisted.
Lotte, still fighting a blush and the heady acceptance of his olive branch, shot her gaze to the window. ‘Outside, please.’
Even before his brusque nod and the narrowing of his eyes, she knew what was coming.
‘And yes, I’ll do my best to prevent any mishaps,’ she said, then because she couldn’t help herself, she added, tongue firmly in cheek, ‘as long as you do your part to avoid fomenting my temper.’
The tightness around his mouth eased a touch. ‘I would prefer a blanket pledge to be on your best behaviour.’
She made a show of glancing around, then throwing out her arms. ‘I don’t see stables around. You must be losing your touch of turning your wishes into horses, Your Highness.’
And for the briefest nanosecond, Lotte could’ve sworn she saw amusement glint in his eyes, before he turned to glance out the window.
‘It’ll be dark soon. You can have your shoot in the morning.’
Disappointment dashed through her, but anticipation levelled it out soon enough.
And to her surprise they spent what amounted to a skirmish-free evening where she managed to read a few more chapters of her book, while Valenti brooded in the armchair, a sleek-looking laptop commanding the entirety of his attention, while also managing to make her acutely aware that he was cataloguing every breath she took.
It was almost a relief to head up to bed shortly after nine p.m. and fall into a dreamless sleep after a curious hour of wondering why she didn’t feel inclined or defiant about tending to the need simmering in her pelvis.
Whatever the cause, she was glad to be free of the thought when she was showered, dressed and downstairs by seven.
To find Valenti also fully dressed, the sofa bed tucked away.
He held out a cup of steaming coffee which she accepted, fighting self-consciousness when his steady gaze seared over her, lingering on her face. ‘Sleep well?’
Remembering the hour of tossing and turning, her face heated.
‘As well as can be expected,’ she muttered, then blew on the hot liquid, her belly clenching when his gaze immediately zeroed in on the motion.
It took every crumb of composure to take a small sip and swallow, before forcing her body to turn away from him.
To appear nonchalant as she looked out the window to the white and green landscape.
‘Any ideas on where you’d like to start?’
She grimaced inwardly, knowing her answer would make her seem flaky, but then she shrugged.
Pretending she was something she wasn’t would only end up shaming herself and denting her integrity.
And didn’t she promise herself she was done attempting to contort herself to fit his expectations?
‘Inspiration will come when it comes. I won’t force it.
’ She paused, expecting his judgement when the silence stretched.
‘I’m sure you think it’s silly?’ she asked, after blowing and sipping her coffee, and earning herself another sizzling scrutiny.
‘You forget I have a twin who conjures magical creations out of thin air. I’m not unfamiliar with people who fly by the seat of their pants,’ he said evenly.
‘But you don’t approve?’ she pressed, wanting to know his thoughts despite all her frothy pep talks.
He breached the gap between them in two large steps, and for an age, he stared down at her with those brooding silver eyes. Assessing. Digging. ‘I will never be an advocate for unbridled chaos but I’m learning that controlled chaos has a certain…appeal.’
Why her breath snagged so hard in her throat she was extremely reluctant to examine.
Mostly because she freely admitted she was terrified of what the results would be.
Especially when Valenti bracketed that answer with a hand raised slowly to her face, his hard knuckles brushing her cheeks almost experimentally, cataloguing the expulsion of her breath for another long moment before he stepped back.
‘Finish your coffee, litla. The morning’s wasting.’
She studiously avoided staring after him as he went into the living area, needing the few minutes to get herself under control after the lightest of touches had sparked an inferno.
Outside, the cold, crisp air did nothing to alleviate the heat building inside her.
Or was it the blistering awareness of him as he talked her through how to best utilise the camera?
All she knew was that she was breathing far too much of his rousing scent, was far too keen on the dexterity of his strong hands and the thrum of his rumbling voice.
Hell, even his long-legged stride and the crunch of his boots on snow made her insides somersault.
Lotte took the opposite path to the one they’d taken yesterday, glad she needed to concentrate on the rocky terrain.
Just as she was almost glad when she spotted Valenti’s bodyguards, dressed in mostly white winter gear to blend in with the landscape.
It was a timely reminder of his stratospheric status and importance.
Thankfully, she was rewarded mere minutes later with a spectacular vista of a mirror-smooth lake, rimmed by soaring snow-capped fir trees.
She lost herself in capturing the beauty of the place and filming herself without giving away her location, her heart flipping over at Valenti’s nod of approval.
But while it was bolstering to dive back into work, she knew her footage lacked depth.
She was about to call it a day when she spotted a shoot of familiar green she hadn’t seen in a long time.
She rushed to investigate, then held out the camera to Valenti. ‘Do you mind filming?’
He took the camera, flicking the setting before he aimed it at her.
‘And for those who need it, here’s your tip for the day.
Ice baths with a twist of mugwort.’ She winked into the camera and held up the small bush of the healing plant.
‘I know, it’s horrifically unsexy, but my grandmother swore by it and after a few scraped knees and bruises, I can attest to the fact that it does wonders for quick healing.
And yes, you can thank me later.’ She smiled wide then taking a deep breath, signed off with her usual slogan.
‘Be bold. Be brave. Reach for what you want. Remember I’m here for you, always. ’
It was stupid to fight a blush when he slowly lowered the camera but kept his gaze pinned on her, the assessing look filling his eyes once more.
‘You’re making recommendations normally reserved for combat training personnel and athletes,’ he observed when they started back down the hill to the cabin, his silver eyes probing and watchful.
Her breath strangled. ‘So? Healing is healing, no?’
A brisk nod, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘Have you used it yourself?’
Her eyes widened. ‘You think I need it?’ She strove for flippant and missed by a wide mile.
‘There better not be another secret in your recent past you’re withholding,’ he warned, his voice a rumbling storm.
Anxiety knitted her insides because it just so happened, she was.
She barely managed to stop herself from biting her lip in her agitation, choosing instead to divert attention.
‘A woman is allowed some secrets, you know. And at the risk of sounding like a broken record, my life isn’t an open book to you.
And even if it was, you’ve missed several chapters. ’
His eyes narrowed as they climbed the steps onto the cabin porch, she feared he’d see right through her ruse. ‘Have I? Enlighten me then,’ he invited silkily.
‘You seem to want to control every corner of my life, but did you even bother to check my bank account? I haven’t needed your money to live on since I was nineteen years old.’
He froze, surprise a sharp flint in his eyes. ‘What?’
A punch of pride preceded her answer. ‘I’m independently well off, Valenti.
I don’t have your billions, but I’m very capable of surviving on my own.
The only reason I’m here in this cabin at all is because you won’t let me go.
Or am I mistaken in recalling that part of the guardianship means I have to get your express permission to go anywhere on earth? ’
Shock reeled across his face, followed swiftly by intransigent rejection. ‘Not quite. The agreement is that I have ample warning so your security can be arranged. As long as we’re both clear on that abiding fact, there’s nothing else to discuss is there?’
‘Who’s incredible now?’ she threw at him, remembering his seething observation yesterday.
That eerily brooding calm settled over him once more. ‘Do you want to keep filming or not?’ he bit out.
She looked from his face to his camera and back again.
‘Not,’ she snapped. She started to walk away, then wheeled back.
‘Would it hurt you to congratulate me for my achievements? For a modicum of recognition? Or does it stick in your gut that I’m not as useless as you think?
’ A scoffing laugh barked out before she could stop it.
‘At this point I’m thinking you’d be more impressed if I said I had a sugar daddy on the side than admit that I’m capable of looking after myself. ’
The roll of fury across his face was so visceral, so intense she took a hasty step back, scrambling into the doorway of the cabin.
He kept coming, seeming to grow to twice his size, his aura filling every corner of her senses until he was the only thing she could see.
‘For your sake I suggest you keep that suggestion strictly fictional and quickly discarded.’
‘Oh yeah? And why is that?’ she taunted, while a part of her brain shrieked at her for her return to recklessness. A mode she was fully intent on blaming on him.
‘Lotte—’
‘Because it infuriates you for me to have something you didn’t provide?’ she cut through his warning tone. ‘Do you get off that much on having me beholden to you?’
He reached for her, one hand closing over her nape to drag her close. ‘I am many things, but a power-hungry megalomaniac isn’t one.’